A Drop of Golden Sun
by Tobi Tortue
Summary: Post Destiny. The freighter Golden Sun comes across a young man while cleaning up the wreckage of the NeoGenesis. Rey Za Burrel may yet have a chance at a bright future, and even more importantly, redemption. HIATUS
1. Chapter 1

**A Drop of Golden Sun**

* * *

_"Even though we know life is not fair, I believe you are still too young to die..."_

_"But--"_

_"Rey, I want you to live."_

_"Gil, I'm sor--"_

He felt the helmet as it was suddenly shoved around his face. Fingers that weren't his own clasped the helmet onto his pilot suit. He saw the man's smile, difficult through pain, and then everything went perfectly white, and then black.

* * *

He shot up, gasping for breath. Pain rocketed through his body and he collapsed back onto the bed, trembling uncontrollably. But through the haze of his raw-feeling nerves and, undoubtedly, large doses of drugs, he could perceive his surroundings. Slowly. With much effort.

The room was dark and faintly blue, as if it were moonlight that were seeping in, or off-color fluorescent lights. He was lying in a bed, a hospital bed, by the sterile smell and starchy texture of the sheets. The edge of the pillow that his cheek rested on felt like coarse paper. He could tell from a soft, blinking glow that there was a green light at the foot of his bed, though he didn't dare move his head to see the source. He was fairly sure that the eerily shiny post near his bed was holding a pouch of liquid that was being pumped into him through an IV.

Satisfied that he was not in an entirely hostile environment, he closed his eyes and allowed himself to fold into unconsciousness.

It may have been minutes, hours, or days later when he awoke. He had no way of knowing, and felt completely disoriented. He felt himself slowly receding from a deep sleep, warm light and voices approaching his consciousness like waves lapping the shore of a lake.

He slowly opened his eyes, becoming aware, at the same time, of the dull numbness in his back, legs, and left arm.

"Hey, the kid's awake." A voice, female, probably aged between 20 and 30. He didn't recognize it. Her face appeared above his, fair-skinned and blonde, with hazel eyes and a soft, round nose. She seemed to be indeed between 20 and 30, but he judged her to be closer to 30. He still did not recognize her.

"About time," said a man's voice with a hint of a German accent. This voice probably belonged to a large man, about the same age as the woman. Papers fluttered, like the sound of someone flipping quickly through a book. "Any longer and I'd have thought him a cucumber."

"You mean a vegetable," said the woman, disappearing from view. She sighed in a way that made him think she was giving the man a pointed, "don't screw around" look. Her face appeared again, thankfully blotting out the overhead light.

"Welcome aboard the freighter _Golden Sun_. We picked you up while cleaning up near the Messiah mess. Our ship is on scrap duty, and you were pretty lucky." She smiled warmly, in an almost motherly fashion. He wondered if she had lost a son, and were unconsciously seeking a replacement.

"Especially lucky you had that helmet on while indoors." The man's voice seemed to echo across the room from far away, and bounce off all of the walls. He wanted to hold his head still with his hands to keep it from being pushed by the sound waves.

He thought he saw a flash of a dark room, and a splash of something red. It glittered and pooled, and eyes widened. _Shock_. A shot. It echoed and the sound pushed him away, and somehow it was inside him. It bounced and echoed and rebounded. _It shook._ He shook. He heard a loud beep and voices, voices telling him to hold on, to breathe slowly, _to play the piano better_, to say hello, to take his medication, to hold, just hold on...

_"Rey, I--"_

He opened his eyes slowly, surprised to find the room empty and quiet, except for a faint humming. The two people were gone, and the light was dimmed.

He vaguely realized that much time had to have passed. He determined that something was wrong with him, something other than the injuries that must be present in the areas he felt a dull, faintly pulsing numbness.

He decided to do a quick check of his system as he had been taught. He took even and steady breaths as his eyes darted to find a clock. There was one above the door, silver and, incredibly, analog. He relaxed in the silent room and turned his head slightly, carefully, until he could hear the beat of his pulse in his ear. Watching the clock, he was relieved to find it within a normal range. He rolled his head on the pillow and tried to stare towards the opposite wall. The slight movement made him feel dizzy. He waited patiently for the room to stop swimming, and then continued. He shifted his shoulders, and both moved without pain. His left arm wouldn't move, but his right was in normal condition. He used his right hand to prod his stomach, and found that most of it was rather painful to touch. One spot produced an eerie tingling sensation that made him feel as if the rest of his body was beginning to rapidly disintegrate. His legs were numb, and refused to move.

He considered himself lucky.

But why?

It was then that he realized, with a sudden jolt of panic, that he had no idea what was going on, why it was happening, who anyone was, or how all of it had come to be. He did not remember pieces of information that he felt were vital to…someone.

He tried to sort through memories like he had checked his physical self, but images floated away from his conscious mind as the low buzz in the room magnified. Debussy's _Claire de Lune_ drifted through his mind, and stuck there, although he had no idea why. He tried to pull up an old memory, imagining himself in childhood, and to his relief…

Rey climbed up onto the piano stool and sat there, swinging his chubby child's legs back and forth as he waited for a signal to begin. He glanced behind him, across the enormous room, lavishly furnished with heavy curtains and carpets. A man appeared in the wide doorway behind the dark leather sofa and low coffee table with one of Rey's books, a coaster, a cell phone, a glass chess set, and a digital notepad. The man nodded at Rey, who turned around to face his music. He heard the man sit on the couch and the slight clink as he set his glass of wine on the table.

Rey took a deep breath, and put his short fingers on the keys. The first notes of _Claire de Lune_ sprang from the piano as Rey stretched his right foot down to reach the pedal. A few strands of his blond hair fell into his eyes, but by this time Rey knew he could play without looking at the music or the keys. He was playing perfectly, as he knew he should be able to after three days of heavy practice. Rau did not think that small hands allowed one any excuses, and Rey agreed.

The song came to a light close, and Rey spun around, hoping for praise. He watched the lips below the white mask carefully.

A corner of Rau's lips turned upwards. Rey scooted off the piano stool, delighted, and hurried over to the couch.

"There's someone I'd like you to meet, Rey," Rau said, picking up his glass again. He took a sip, and then held it there. "His name is Gilbert Dullindal."

Rey nodded.

"I'm going to convince him to stop studying genetics, and to take up politics."

Rey nodded, and Rau continued.

"I believe that all…visionary men…should have the…opportunity to—"

The door to the _Golden Sun_'s infirmary opened, and the woman from before stepped in, turning on the lights and checking a machine before she realized that Rey was awake, staring at her with a look of reserved interest.

"Oh, you've woken up! Thank goodness! We thought you might have had serious neural damage and weren't going to wake up again." She smiled. "I don't mean to scare you, but your injuries are quite severe. We weren't always sure you were going to make it. Would you like me to tell you what we're fixing on you?" She paused and her hazel eyes watched his face in an endearing sort of way, as if she did not expect him to make a verbal response.

"Please, go ahead," Rey said confidently, although the first word came out as a croak.

Her smile widened considerably, and Rey again considered the possibility that he was a surrogate son for her. Or perhaps _he_ was projecting, and _she_ was the replacement mother for _him_.

He tried to pull up any memories of his own mother and failed miserably. For some reason, this did not distress him, although he was confident that the lack of this information would make any normal person feel alone and perhaps hopeless.

Now Rey knew that he was not normal.

She smoothed a few locks of golden hair out of his eyes and pulled a chair up next to Rey's bed. "Well," she began, her hand dropping away self-consciously all of a sudden, "you've got two broken legs, but those are healing quite nicely. You managed to get plenty of ribs broken and bruised, so avoid deep breaths. Your left arm is broken in three places. Your head...had some trauma, but until we talk to you and see you move around, we won't know how bad it is." She smiled gently and took his good hand in hers. "Don't worry," she told him, "it'll be alright now."

Rey's blue eyes watched her carefully. He had never had any doubt that things would be alright. He would make them so, even if they did not wish to cooperate.

His mind suddenly conjured an image of a dark-haired man, tall and young, pacing in the way fresh geniuses move because their thoughts cannot be contained, nor conveyed without movement.

_"We might have to make them, even if they do not wish to cooperate. But you can see it, don't you, Rey..."_

The woman straightened her white lab coat in a way that made Rey realize she was waiting for some kind of response from him. He silently cursed that he had been focusing on memories rather than the present as his lips turned upwards into an automatic smile of glassy calm. Rey knew that this smile, fake as it was, was utterly his and vital to his personality. But why did he immediately feign a cold and aloof exterior?

"My name is Rey Za..." Again, Rey cursed himself without speaking. He had hoped that his entire name would roll off his tongue. It had not, but he had gained knowledge of his middle name. But the rest of his identity, something he knew he said frequently and answered by rote, remained stuck somewhere within his brain. Rey took a breath, not too deep, and wondered again why he was acting like someone else. His vision became fuzzy, and he couldn't focus. He smiled sadly in the woman's direction. "I can't remember who I am," he whispered, not caring that someone would realize he had emotions, that someone might care about him, someone other than the dark-haired genius...

The woman leaned over him, putting her arms around his head and sort of cradling it. She smoothed his hair back out of his eyes again, and whispered meaningless phrases of encouragement.

Rey snapped back to himself, and blinked rapidly, the tears breaking free from his eyes and running down his temples. "Sorry." Rey's voice had come out stiff and formal.

The woman drew back.

"My name is Rey," he stated, his emotionless mask claiming his features once more. "Thank you for rescuing me, and taking care of me. I will repay you with a currency of your choice, or if you'd like me to help aboard this vessel once I am able, I will do so as payment. I owe you and the rest of the crew." Rey was suddenly unsure of how much money he could claim as his own, though as he had said the words, he had been confident that even an extravagant amount was easily within his reach. But without knowing whether his first instinct had been true or false, Rey needed to secure the outcome as help aboard the ship. He let his well-schooled expression to slip into one of self-doubt. She had already comforted him, so she should be an easy target. "I don't know if I'm any good aboard the ship, though. I might just get in everyone's way. And I don't want to be a problem, after you've done so much for me already." He paused, just long enough to let her know that he was changing directions of thought, but not enough to let her butt in. "But, where can I find a job? Do you think people will hire me? What if...what if I never remember even my family?" He paused again, this time his eyes downcast, and as he expected, she waited for his final question. "Do you think that...my family...is looking for me?" He let his blue eyes work their wonders on her, using a searching gaze, as if he were afraid she were going to lie to him. She easily went for his bait.

"Of course they're looking for you!" she whispered fiercely. She pushed the lock of hair she had been messing with the entire time firmly behind one of his ears. "And we'd be glad to have you help aboard our ship. We've been short of hands ever since the war on Logos started."

Rey smiled at her, and hoped that she couldn't see how fake it was. "Thank you," he told her as sincerely as possible. He looked toward his toes, then made a quick glance in her direction. Looking at the wall opposite her, his voice slipped out quietly. "What's your name?"

"Call me Erin." He rolled his head around slowly to look at her.

"Call me Rey."

They stared at each other for a long time, and Rey did nothing to change anything. He could tell by the short, quick movements of her eyes that she was memorizing his face. He felt a sudden and strong desire to hide his face, as if there were something shameful about his delicate features and liquid blue eyes. He resisted the impulse, and continued watching her without blinking.

The door slid open with a hydraulic hiss and the man from the day before stood in the doorway. Erin glanced behind her, and her loose blond bun bobbed in a nod. The door slid shut as the man continued down the hall. She turned back towards him, and shifted slightly. She was about to leave.

"Well, I've got to go, Rey," she said, putting extra emphasis on the use of his name. Rey showed her a smile when he recognized how he was being addressed. She moved her hand as if to stroke his cheek or pet his hair again, but her hand changed directions suddenly and touched a dial on the medical equipment at the head of the bed. She smiled warmly and stood. "I'll see you again later today. Try to get some rest, okay?" She turned and walked to the door.

Rey waited until she had just opened the door, but hadn't made a move to step through it. He knew how to time these things right.

"Erin?"

"Yes, Rey?" She turned around too quickly, and Rey knew she was entirely caught.

"Thank you."

She quirked a smile, and then hurried out the open doorway. It hissed shut behind her white coat, leaving Rey alone again.

But he had made sure that she'd be back. He realized that it was probably her duty to look after him, but for some reason he'd felt it wasn't enough. He was worried about...enemies or something of the sort. He'd wanted her to feel morally responsible, emotionally attached. If there were some sort of disaster, she would be sure to come for him.

He knew he was ruthlessly manipulating her. Rey checked his sentimentality levels and found them to be no different than what he guessed.

He was not attached. He was simply manipulative.

He wondered why he was so good at making people do what he wanted while making them believe it was what they wanted. Like that boy.

_What boy?_

The one he remembered, but could not remember. Rey concentrated, willing his mind to stop moving things just out of his reach. What boy had he manipulated so well?

His mind retrieved an image of a brunette, but the face wasn't clear. Rey stretched his imagination, filling in the features, but he instinctively knew it was the wrong boy.

He felt his consciousness slipping, and a sudden feeling of panic. This was the other boy, the one who saved him. The one who convinced him to--

Rey felt an almost physical pain and had to gasp for air. He knew he did not want to know what he had been convinced to do. But the boy's face remained in his mind. Those violet eyes were looking, searching, and nothing was hiding...

* * *

I love Rey. Anyway, let me know what you all think. Do serious pieces work with me? Please review. 


	2. Chapter 2

**A Drop of Golden Sun**

**Chapter 2**

His mind retrieved an image of a brunette, but the face wasn't clear. Rey stretched his imagination, filling in the features, but he instinctively knew it was the wrong boy.

He felt his consciousness slipping, and a sudden feeling of panic. This was the other boy, the one who saved him. The one who convinced him to--

Rey felt an almost physical pain and had to gasp for air. He knew he did not want to know what he had been convinced to do. But the boy's face remained in his mind. Those violet eyes were looking, searching, and nothing was hiding...

And suddenly, he was looking at the face he had tried to see, using the eyes he had not wanted to see.

"Shinn, I understand," Rey said, though he wasn't speaking. But it felt as if his own mouth had spoken, had formed the words, and had pushed the air out in an effort to convince the distraught boy before him.

Shinn's angry red eyes flew to his face, though Rey knew it to be not _his_ face. The boy across from him opened his mouth and for a moment, nothing came out. He could not channel all of his emotions into words, not yet.

"How can you understand?!" Shinn yelled defiantly, finally. He was exploding now, and Rey realized this patiently. It was best to simply let him get it all out. Only then could he be "reasoned with"... and be brought more firmly under Gil's influence.

_Only then could he get better, accept what happened, and move on._

Rey felt suddenly strangled. That thought did not come from his own mind. That thought was not his. This body...this was not his, either. This life...he had not lived it, and was not to live it.

"Shinn, listen to-" Rey's-but-not-Rey's mouth said gently. Rey reeled. What was happening?

"NO!" Shinn screamed, taking several steps backwards. His voice dropped, and then came out in a frenzied hiss. "Don't tell me you know what it's like! Don't tell me you understand _exactly how I feel!_ How can _you_ know what it's like to lose _everything!?" _ Dark, magma-colored eyes narrowed in a crushing fury, and his next words came out in a barely-controlled, shaking breath of air.

"You don't know anything, Kira."

Rey was drowning. Suffocating. Things that weren't his were in a flood, but he was in it too. He struggled to take a breath, but his lungs were moving differently, all out of rhythm than what he wanted. _He was trying not to be angry with Shinn, it wasn't the boy's fault,_ he had manipulated Shinn.He couldn't move his body--it was not his body! Shinn! Where was Gil? _Why did Shinn refuse to see that others were hurt by the war the Destiny pilot and Gilbert Dullindal had perpetuated?_ What was happening?_ Why couldn't he understand that people had sacrificed so much to find the peace that Dullindal's regime had destroyed? Flay, Tolle, Ensign Badgiruel, and many more had sacrificed their very _lives _for peace. And this boy, who had so much talent, would cling to the remains of his tattered beliefs just so he did not have to admit that he had been used._

Rey was lost. He was alone. There was no one to take care of him. And he remembered that when the news came, he had thought he already knew. The war was over, and he had been waiting at Gil's house. Rau was dead. Honored, but dead. And alone.

From some distant corner of the universe, a hand touched his shoulder. Rey turned, and felt pain. But pain was good; it meant that he was alive, and being alive is a gift.

It means that there is a tomorrow.

Rey opened his blue eyes, and felt the wet streaks of tears on his cheeks. Erin was leaning over him, blotting out the harshness of the overhead light, and making the room emanate a warm glow. He could not decide if it were pity or compassion, but understood that he didn't need either. He just needed a moment to compose himself.

"Don't try to move again," she cautioned, and her voice almost broke. She pushed a stray lock of hair behind his ear, and left her cool hand on his cheek.

"I'm sorry," Rey said, acting as if nothing at all had happened, as if he hadn't been caught crying in his sleep. "Did I worry you?"

She shook her head, her lips pressed tight so he knew she feared to speak, and he noticed that this time, her hair was down. It was just past shoulder-length, and it was slightly wavy. It looked mildly unbrushed. He noticed her clothes.

Pajamas. And no lab coat. She had been sleeping, or about to sleep.

"Is something wrong?" Rey asked again, trying to placate her. He needed to sort out what had happened for himself, and didn't need her trying to comfort him while he did it.

Again, Erin shook her head. Her nose had become red, and her cheeks looked a little splotchy. Maybe that was because she was wearing no makeup, but it was probably also caused by stress.

"Then I'll just go back to sleep." He set his expression to look anxious about another person. "Please, don't lose sleep over me. I feel very good right now. I think whatever you're doing to help me is working." He smiled.

She looked fearful, as if she knew he had been making it up so she would go away. "I'd rather be with you, Rey. So you don't have to be alone."

Her words echoed in his mind, so familiar. Gil had said those words to him. Gil, the magnificent, brilliant genius, who had decided to change the fate of the world. He had said those same words...

...to comfort Rey.

He looked up at her, tears welling in his blue eyes again. He was suddenly so full of the emotions he had decided not to feel. There was a cold lump in his throat, and he couldn't help the way his forehead creased, as if he couldn't understand her reasoning, but it didn't matter if he couldn't understand why she did the things she did. He opened his mouth to thank her, but couldn't get any words out.

She seemed to understand what him, regardless. She moved her hand from his cheek to press a single finger against his lips. She smiled, and he could see a wet sparkle in her hazel eyes.

Somehow she had rebuilt the bridge, and crossed the moat into his castle of solitude and distance. He knew she did not have to be here, to watch him and care for him in the middle of the night. He knew he had ruthlessly manipulated her the last time he had been awake. He had wanted her, for selfish reasons, to come to him. To become attached to him.

But something had changed, suddenly, and Rey wanted to be attached to her, too. He could almost feel the physical power of her concern and unconditional love for the lost boy she had dragged in from a ruined monument in space. He could read it in her eyes, her mouth, and the way the light made a strange halo through her blond hair as it hung around her head, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze from the fan. She would keep him from being alone because she loved him. She would be strong, because she had someone she could love and she could take pride in knowing that she loved.

And Rey, Rey would find a way to love her back. He did not know who he was, but that would not stop him from helping her, protecting her, perhaps even dying for her. He slowly felt a little warmer, as if there were a light within him, as if he were a tiny, glowing sun.

Rey closed his eyes and drifted wordlessly, tearlessly off to sleep.

* * *

He awoke in an unfamiliar room, dark and faintly blue, as if it were moonlight that was seeping in, or off-color fluorescent lights. He was lying in a bed, a hospital bed, by the sterile smell and starchy texture of the sheets. The edge of the pillow that his cheek rested on felt like coarse paper. He could tell from a soft, blinking glow that there was a green light at the foot of his bed, though he didn't dare move his head to see the source. He was fairly sure that the eerily shiny post near his bed was holding a pouch of liquid that was being pumped into him through an IV. 

There was a dull numbness seeping through his back, left arm, and the back of his head. He decided to do a quick check of his system. He took even and steady breaths as his eyes darted to find a clock. There was one above the door, silver and, incredibly, analog. He relaxed in the silent room and turned his head slightly, carefully, until he could hear the beat of his pulse in his ear. Watching the clock, he was relieved to find it within a normal range. He rolled his head on the pillow and tried to stare towards the opposite wall. He shifted his shoulders, and both moved without pain. His left arm wouldn't move, but his right was in normal condition. He used his right hand to prod his stomach, and judged by the tight spaces of acute pain that he had three broken ribs. One seemed to be much worse, and over that one was a thick gauze pad. He assumed he had been given surgery. His legs felt oddly heavy and stiff, but he could bend his knees and wiggle his toes.

He had the feeling he had been recuperating from some terrible accident for some time. He tried to recall the exact circumstances.

His mind came up blank.

Then he remembered a face. Framed by dark locks, amber eyes wide in a mixture of pain, fear, sudden and unwilling understanding. His mouth was slightly open, as if he were about to softly say, "oh..." Or maybe he was trying to smile.

He could not remember anything else.

Suddenly, the door whooshed quietly open. A woman somewhere in her late 30s appeared there, and walked in, smiling when she noticed he was awake. She was fair and blonde, and wore her white lab coat open, as if she were not really on duty, or as if she thought she looked younger if it were unbuttoned.

"Good morning"--she paused to check her watch--"afternoon, Rey." She walked right up beside the bed and pulled a chair closer so she could sit by him. Her hand moved, as if reflexively, to his forehead, where she brushed aside some of his hair.

He smiled. It was fake. She had called him Rey, so he assumed that to be his name.

"So, how are you feeling today?" she asked warmly. She turned to his bedside table and picked up a clipboard, riffling through the pages absently. She was unaware that he was studying her closely. Perhaps she seemed familiar...

Rey decided to answer vaguely, deeming it to be safe. "I think I feel better."

She laughed lightly at the confidence in his voice despite his word choice. "You know you slept another three days?"

He rolled his head across his pillow in a "no" as he analyzed her words. _Another_ three days? He had to assume that he had been here for at least more than three days, but probably more than six. Maybe he had been sleeping for three-day intervals.

"Well, we think that if you're feeling well enough today, and well, awake, then we might bring you to the med room and get your noggin and such scanned so we know how well you've been healing." She set the clipboard down and began slowly petting his head again. She had said the phrases nonchalantly, but had Rey detected the hint of fear in her voice, as if she suspected that he had memory problems already. She did not want to scare him, and had used the word "noggin." She was treating him like a child.

For a brief moment, Rey was afraid that he _was_ her child, but it faded quickly. Fear was such a wasteful emotion, and upon closer inspection, Rey discerned that he had no emotional response to the word "mother" or anything similar. But he might pity her if she were a mother, and her child could not recall their past together.

But although he felt that he knew better than placing his faith blindly, Rey felt compelled to trust her.

He took a deep breath, and wondered about how to go about this. He moved his hand to hers, and she seemed surprised, but not upset at the contact. "I'm sorry," he said carefully.

Her forehead wrinkled in confusion. He continued holding her hand, and was surprised by how soothing it felt to have the back of her hand rest against his temple.

He held her attention with his eyes, and spoke. "I believe my memory has failed me. Do I know you?"

Her grip tightened, and he knew the answer was yes before he saw her few, trembling nods. His voice dropped, and a lock of golden hair tumbled into a blue eye. "Are we related?"

Her reaction surprised him. She shook her head slowly, but that was also when the first tear fell.

The door seemed to burst open, although it was operating normally, and a large man popped into the room. He was chuckling to himself and shaking his head as if he were trying to get rid of his giant grin.

"Heh, you two in here flirting again?" he joked good-naturedly, a hint of some European accent on his breath.

The woman rose with a sharp exhalation of breath and turned to face the man. "Oh, Benedikt, can't you for once just have a little tact?" She did not try to hide her feelings in front of the man, and he, for his part, did not appear to be overly surprised at her emotion. She walked forward until she stood directly in front of him, then she grabbed the edges of her long white coat and pulled it around her tightly.

Benedikt held the woman's shoulders loosely and bent towards her. "Erin, what happened?" His eyes flicked over her blond bun and met Rey's. "The boy's awake. He's okay, right? I mean, he's not dead or zombified..."

He stood there and took the half-hearted punch from the Erin in the shoulder. "Tact, Benedikt, _please_." Rey could hear the tears in her voice, although he could not see them when her back was turned.

"Okay, okay," he said, waving his hands as if warding away her frustration. He lowered his voice to just above a whisper, but Rey could hear his words anyway. "So, what happened?"

Erin shrugged her shoulders helplessly. "It's from the trauma. He just...can't remember things." Benedikt's face softened, and she continued, wiping away the tears hurriedly as if that were all that was needed to calm her down. "Anyway, I was thinking I should take him down to the med room for another scan. I thought it was about time to take off the head bandages and, well, I was also hoping that maybe we could see if he's well enough to try walking a bit..." She trailed off and bit her lip as she turned to glance at Rey over her shoulder. "But maybe that's too much for him right now. I think we should probably wait a little longer..." she said, turning back to the large man as if she could not stand to look at Rey any longer, rather than the realization that she was actually speaking to Benedikt.

The man gave her a clap on the shoulder. "If you want to go take a break or something, I can handle this much. Listen, I'll take the kid down to get scanned. You go either sleep, or find a hot cup of coffee and _then_ join me." The man pushed her gently towards the door and she complied. He must have made some facial expression just as the door was whizzing shut behind Erin, because she rolled her eyes and smiled as she stood in the hallway.

Benedikt turned around and, compared to Erin's light footsteps, lumbered to the bedside. Rey looked up at him with a sort of distant curiosity. This man was not familiar, ad not someone he was willing to trust. Rey suddenly felt vulnerable, lying prone in the strange hospital bed while this broad-shouldered man with his short beard and long white coat stood over him. He flexed his right arm without clenching his fist, testing its strength, but hoping that he could talk his way out of any predicament.

"So, I hear you're name's Rey," the overly-friendly man began, holding out a beefy fist. Rey made no move to shake hands, but glanced down at his prostrate arm as if it were an excuse. "Anyway, my name's Benedikt, and in just a moment I'll be taking you out of this room while your awake for the first time." He smiled and then turned away, searching the room for something. "So, what exactly did you say to Erin anyway?" he called out conversationally while rummaging through a cabinet.

Rey wanted to tell the man it was none of his business. "I don't remember," he said curtly.

"Oh," Benedikt responded, seeming a little disappointed. "She really likes you, you know." Rey forced his face to remain impassive when Benedikt turned around. There was a pause that would have been awkward if Benedikt had noticed it. The man seemed to be thinking very hard about something. Suddenly, he shrugged. "Oh well, that's life, isn't it?" He turned back to the cabinet and did something that involved turning on the sink. Rey wished he could see what the man was doing, but his view was completely blocked. He wanted to know exactly what he was going to have to eat, drink, or absorb directly through his bloodstream. "Anyway," Benedikt continued over the sound of running water, "this ship is the _Golden Sun_. We took you aboard when we were commissioned to pick up some of the war wreckage that was going to be floating dangerously close to some of the PLANTs. We were assigned to the Messiah area, and well, that's where we found you, about three weeks ago, floating out in space. Does any of this ring a bell?"

Rey paused, and closed his eyes for a moment. "No."

"Anyway, you are, or were, a ZAFT soldier working there at Messiah. Actually, you're a mobile suit pilot, because that's what sort of outfit you were wearing. A mobile suit pilot...suit." Benedikt seemed to be confused at his own wording. "So, basically, peace has come now, so there's no need to worry about heading back to your squad or whatever. The war's over. As soon as we finish our business out here, we'll take you back with us to November City and there you can contact your family." Benedikt walked to the bedside with a gray tray holding a glass of water and a few pills on a paper napkin. "Well, in your case, we'll probably have to put an add out or something so your family can contact _you."_ He smiled, as if it were some kind of joke that Rey had lost all of his memories. Rey ignored the man, and wondered instead if the only face he remembered belonged to his father, or perhaps his superior officer in the military.

At least knowing his profession had cleared up a few things. Rey now knew why he felt compelled to distrust people, and why he had already found three exits from the room despite their being only one door. Rey knew he had probably killed people in this war Benedikt had spoken of, and decided that it was not simply "probably" if he could accurately judge by his residual emotions towards the idea. He did not particularly like the idea, but felt that if it were necessary, he would not hesitate to shoot to kill.

"So, if you could just take these pills, then we'll be set to get you all scanned out." Benedikt brought the tray closer, as if that would make Rey move faster.

"What are they?" Rey asked calmly without moving.

"It's just to help with the pain. Since you're awake, I was thinking you might oblige me by taking the same medication that Erin would otherwise pump into you through your arm." The tray nudged a little closer, and one of the pills rolled slightly on the napkin.

Rey assumed that a doctor would not lie to a patient. He leaned forward and Benedikt's left arm moved to help him sit upright slowly. Pain sliced through Rey's chest suddenly, and he felt himself collapse forward, coughing and unable to draw a deep breath. He heard the slight clatter of the tray as it was set on the bedside table and then Benedikt's arms pushed him against a few pillows that he had quickly propped up behind Rey's back.

"Take it easy, kid," Benedikt said, and Rey disliked the nickname instantly. Rey's right hand shot out and he grabbed the pills. He tossed them into his mouth, swallowed, and then downed half the glass of water. The routine seemed ingrained into him, a muscle memory gained from repetition rather than a skill learned. He became aware of Benedikt's stare, but made no comment.

"Hm. So, you don't happen to remember what kind of medication you used to take, do you?" The man seemed split between amusement and desperate hope.

Rey shook his head. "What do you mean by that question?" Rey had no doubt that he used to take some kind of medication frequently--the pattern ingrained into him was proof of that. But that was a feeling, and not necessarily visible to Benedikt. Rey wondered if the man was hiding something from him.

"Well, I did just see the way you downed those puppies like a pro, and... well, you may have some kind of heart problems. Erin noticed on several occasions an unhealthy rapid beat. But your temperature also goes up. After about an hour or so, it dies down." Benedikt watched Rey's face carefully, and after he got no response, let the matter drop. He took two steps to make it to the closet on the other side of the room. He opened it, and wheeled out something that unfolded into a wheelchair. He turned back to Rey, swinging the chair around in front of him. "So, you've got two options. We can either roll your bed down there like we've done in the past, or we can get you situated into this chair. Which do you want?" Rey realized the man's accent came from how he said his w's. They were mixed with a "v" sound.

"The wheelchair, please," Rey told him politely. As Benedikt wheeled the chair closer, Rey put his right hand on the edge of the bed and tried to carefully swing his legs over. He tried to move without tightening his abdomen, but that proved to be impossible. Rey doubled over again as sharp flashes of pain jabbed through his ribs and prevented him from breathing.

He felt Benedikt's arms pull him back upright and hold him steady. A deep and almost blinding hatred welled up within Rey, that someone could see him so weak like this, but at the same time, he was also grateful that someone was there to help him. After a few calming breaths that were as deep as he could manage, Rey opened his blue eyes and found himself looking into Benedikt's green ones.

"Next time wait for me to help, okay kid?" Benedikt said with a ghost of a smile. Rey was wondering how long it would take the man to realize that Rey was not a child, and that he was able to take care of himself, even if it hurt. "Alright, on the count of three I'm going to sort of lift you into the wheelchair. As soon as you can, grab ahold of the armrests and you can help me lower you in. Ready? One, two, three!"

Rey tried to stand, but found that his legs wouldn't hold him so well, and that he actually needed Benedikt to lift him towards the chair. He grasped the right armrest firmly, and lowered himself in, keeping his left in his lap as best he could. His eyes narrowed as he stared at his deficient legs, and then at his left arm.

"Okay, let's get going now!" Benedikt said loudly, as if he were taking Rey to the zoo and not a medical examination. He pushed Rey forward, the door whooshed open, and they began slowly down the hallway.

The walls were not white. Above the magnetic conveyor strip the walls were painted cream, and below it they were a golden tan. Rey tilted his head back to see the ceiling, and found that it was the same cream as the upper portions of the walls, but was sectioned off by large fluorescent lights that ran in three long lines down the hallway. There was no one else there, so Rey assumed that the crew was minimal, and the ship was small.

One of the wheelchair's wheels squeaked as they rounded a corner and stopped by a doorway, which was entirely tan. Benedikt leaned forward and tapped in a short access code on the panel by the door, and the door opened with a slight hiss. The lights activated with the door, and slowly moved from dark to dim to bright as Rey was wheeled into the room.

"Ah, here we go," Benedikt mumbled, letting go of the handles on the chair and pressing a large red button on the wall. The room was very similar to the one Rey had just vacated, including the sink and cabinet, but it lacked the bed and bedside table. It also had a framed painting on the wall of a desert cactus in bloom. Rey studied it, and noticed the artist's signature in the bottom right corner, but could not read the flowing script. It did not seem to be written in an alphabet he knew anyway.

The red button that Benedikt had pressed glowed, and then a seam in the wall swung open, revealing a dark room with a large, vaguely cylindrical machine inside. The cylinder opened, revealing a place just large enough for a person to lie down. Rey assumed he was getting a full body scan, and vaguely wondered if he were going to have to strip for it.

Benedikt stepped inside the room, and flipped on a light. The machine also whirred to life, and the bright white lights along its sides seemed to be just at the right height to penetrate directly into Rey's eyes.This annoyed him, but he did not mention it, seeing there was nothing that could be done about it.

"Alright then, in just a moment, I'll help you up there and you can get all scanned out," Benedikt said cheerfully. His boisterous presence seemed to be barely contained within the small room. "We'll do the same thing we did to get you off the bed, but in reverse. So, grip there, and then on the count of three..."

Rey took a firm grip on the wheelchair's armrest with his right arm, and when the large man reached three, tried to help lift himself up with his legs. The legs again proved to be fairly useless, but Benedikt was able to pick Rey up and set him on the edge of the machine as if it were a bench. Rey's legs didn't touch the floor, and he stared at them as they swung faintly back and forth, almost remembering, feeling like there was something in his memory just beyond his reach...

"Go ahead and lie back down now," Benedikt interrupted. Rey's eyes shot to the man's face and he avoided narrowing them. He did not need to let the man know he was an enemy. Benedikt helped Rey swing his legs onto the machine and lie down flat on his back. Rey's arms were placed at his sides. "Now I'm gonna lower the machine and get you scanned, so you just hold as still as possible." The half-circle above Rey suddenly shook as if it broke free of a lock, and then slowly started lowering towards him. "Oh, and you probably want to close your eyes." The descending piece of equipment suddenly turned on seemingly thousands of pinpricks of light, all at the same time. Rey closed his eyes reflexively, wondering if his retinas were already scarred. Purple spots were imprinted on the backs of his eyelids.

He heard a thud as the upper half closed and locked onto the piece he was lying on. He felt a warm line begin at his head and then move slowly down to his feet. The line disappeared, and then he felt his left arm warming with the same sort of intensity, but wider. It suddenly was removed from his arm, and then he felt the warm glow on his chest, where he assumed he had broken some ribs. The warmth disappeared again, and this time it flowed onto his head. It was the same kind of feeling as when the sun came up and he got all warm because he was soaking up its rays. Rey smiled slightly, and felt as if he were a child again, sitting on a grassy hillside for as long as he could before he just got too warm and had to go inside to get a drink of water.

Rey's face got warmer, and he wondered where the breeze was. Shouldn't this PLANT be due for a rainy season soon, anyway? Maybe he would stay out until it rained, and _then_ he'd see the look on Rau's face. Well, at least part of his face anyway.

Then Rey remembered that he wasn't on a PLANT. That he was taking a medical examination and that they must be scanning his brain for anomalies. Rey was suddenly very certain that his brain was full of anomalies, and that he had just experienced a very vivid flashback.

But he remembered someone who had been very important in his life: a man named Rau, who could, despite a mask, show Rey a smile.

The machine made a strange thud and then Rey felt a rush of cool air as the lid lifted away. He could tell when the lights went off because his eyelids did not seem to be blazing red anymore. He slowly opened his eyes and had to blink a few times before he could distinguish the form of Benedikt nearby. "Well, that's all done now," the man told him, grinning as usual.

He helped Rey up and then into the wheelchair, and Rey was still displeased to find that his legs were more of a hindrance than a help. "When will I get the results of the scan?" Rey asked in a fairly cold monotone. Benedikt seemed to be taken aback for a moment, but neither were sure whether it was due to the fact that Rey had asked a question or due to the tone of Rey's voice.

"Well, um, I guess we'll see." Benedikt rolled the wheelchair into the other room and pushed the red button again. The scanning equipment and the wall seemed to fold away. "When Erin gets a chance to look it over, she'll let you know what it says."

Rey thought this was a less-than-acceptable answer. He needed to know his condition as soon as possible, and if this man had done the scan... "Why don't you do it?" Rey asked in a tone that seemed nonchalant and accusatory at the same time.

Rey thought he heard the sound of the man's mouth opening and closing behind him, and gave a slight smile. Then Benedikt's voice boomed out merrily.

"Well, that's because I'm not a doctor."

The door hissed open in front of them, and Rey was wheeled back to his room in silence.

* * *

Anyway, let me know what you think and review! Thanks to Blue Moon Wolf for the well thought out review. Thanks to anja-chan for betaing. Thanks to Yammit for reading and reviewing before anyone else and catching the typos.  



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